


Touching Darkness, Finding Light

by bexara



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Angst, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-06
Updated: 2012-11-06
Packaged: 2017-11-18 02:23:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/555820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bexara/pseuds/bexara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kuroko runs into Akashi again in college only to find out it's no coincidence at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Touching Darkness, Finding Light

It's a surprise, a soul-shattering shock that travels down his spine like a lick of fire, pooling in a molten blaze low in his stomach, when he hears his name.

" _Tetsuya_."

The voice that speaks it is soft, but in a different way than his. It is sweet, like honey, but it rings with a commanding presence that even a hundred, shouting men of stature could not rival. Something dangerous lies just below its surface, the barest suggestion that, for all its sweetness, it could be just as quick to poison. As it has from the first moment he heard it, the voice both fascinates and intimidates Kuroko.

He turns and glances up, but he doesn't have to look very far, apparently neither one of them experienced much of a growth spurt since high school.

"Akashi-kun, hello."

Bowing slightly, he looks at the man in front of him, at the blood-red hair, at the triangular face, at the heterochromatic eyes, and the world fades away. The bustling, energetic college students chattering like magpies as they hurriedly walk by. The dainty, fragrant cherry blossoms floating like pink snow on the gentle spring breeze drifting lazily around them. The sounds of horns and rumbling trucks and squealing tires, and all the other ragged noises of the city street a few meters away. Everything just disappears, unable to compete with Akashi Seijuro.

"You are staring, Tetsuya. Is there something on my face?" Akashi asks mildly, but a hint of knowing amusement winds through his words, almost like a snake coiling around its prey.

Yes, that analogy is a good one. Though he is not whimsical or given to flights of fancy, there is something unnerving about being caught in Akashi's dual-colored gaze with its odd, almost vertical pupils. Very much like being lost in the hypnotic stare of a deadly cobra.

His expression doesn't change, it rarely ever does, but he feels his cheeks warm. Kuroko knows Akashi's eyes won't miss the tell-tale blush, either, but there is nothing he can do about the physiological response. Just like he can't stop his pulse from fluttering wildly in his neck like the wings of a trapped butterfly.

"Ah, no, I just did not expect to see you here. Are you attending this university as well?"

Akashi smiles, and Kuroko momentarily forgets to breathe. He is repelled by that smile, he is attracted by it, and the two emotions fight for dominance inside him.

"Yes, I started this semester, just like you. Economic and political science departments."

"Education department," Kuroko offers in return, not really shocked by Akashi's choices given the other's tactical genius and winner-take-all mentality, "elementary level focus."

It seems, however, he manages to surprise Akashi. His eyes briefly widen, and then he chuckles. The sound spills over Kuroko's skin like thick, warm cream, and he almost shudders.

"A kindergarten teacher then? I would have never expected it, but somehow I think it suits you." Akashi studies him for a moment, taking in the wide, arctic blue eyes, the composed expression, the slender yet strong body, and he nods. "Yes, it does suit you indeed."

Kuroko doesn't understand how Akashi is able to determine that by just looking at him. Then again, Akashi "sees" more than the average person. A gift, or maybe a curse, of his very unique eyes.

Of course, just by looking at Akashi, his own overwhelming strength is not readily apparent. It's not just his lack of height, but the almost delicate beauty he possesses that makes people underestimate him. However, the first and last mistake anyone going up against him can make is in thinking his slight build and pretty features are signs of frailty. He is strong, an athletic prodigy, manipulative when necessary, and a charismatic leader that has no trouble getting others to obey him.

Kuroko is no exception. He respects, admires, and stands in awe of Akashi's amazing talent. The slight fear and other, darker, primal things he feels - things that had him waking up all through middle school, pillow drenched in sweat and boxers sticky, wet and uncomfortable  - those things he never acknowledges to himself. If he does, the Kuroko Tetsuya he knows himself to be will shatter, fly apart, and he doesn't know what will be reborn in his place. The thought makes even his placid soul uneasy, so he locks all of the messy things away, hides them deep inside, and never brings them out into the light.

He's suddenly aware Akashi has asked him another question. The slight narrowing of those red-yellow eyes and the firming of his pink, full lips are the only signs of his displeasure at Kuroko's inattention.

"I apologize, Akashi-kun, my mind drifted away for a moment."

"Oh? And what were you thinking of?" There's a razor thin edge to his voice now.

_Of you_ , but of course Kuroko cannot say that. "Nothing of importance. What was your question?"

Searching his face, Akashi is quiet for a moment, and then a gleam settles into his eyes. His mouth relaxes, even tilts up at the corners. Kuroko is very much afraid that dangerous gaze has, yet again, seen right through him.

"I asked if you had already submitted your application to join the basketball team." Akashi repeats his question, and the way he says it, it’s like it is already a forgone conclusion that Kuroko has, indeed, applied to the team.

Of all the things, Kuroko isn't expecting this. He blinks stupidly before rousing enough to provide an answer.

"I hadn't really thought ... I mean I need to focus on my career path."

He knows he's not being very eloquent, but what can he say? Basketball, at least for someone of his meager athletic ability, is simply a high school dream. He got to live that fantasy with people he cared about, and he was happy, so very happy, but now the fantasy is over. University level sports are a far cry from high school. And, it is true; he does need to concentrate on his studies. He is _very_ serious about the career he has chosen.

All traces of amusement disappear from Akashi's face. His disapproval is tangible and the air fairly vibrates with it. "Tetsuya, you love basketball, do you not?"

"Yes, I do love it, Akashi-kun," he replies truthfully.

"And you enjoy playing, yes?"

"Ah, yes, of course, I do, but ..."

"Then you should join the basketball team," Akashi declares confidently.

"But I can't ..."

Stepping forward, Akashi puts his hands on Kuroko's shoulders, and that one small touch, even through his t-shirt, rockets throughout his body, firing off every nerve, reaching the low, forbidden places and awaking them from their slumber. 

"You will join, won't you." Those mysterious eyes capture his as Akashi looks down from the few centimeters that separate them. Kuroko is drowning in that scarlet and amber gaze, sinking so deep he doesn't even realize it's not a question Akashi is giving him, but a command.

Licking his lips, he swims up through the fog and confusion long enough to know there's something he should be saying. "I don't ..."

Akashi drags his hands down Kuroko's arms, past the sleeves of his shirt, and finds bare skin. His touch is deceptively soft, and so very, very cold. Kuroko openly trembles now. "Tetsuya, you _will_ join me on the basketball team."

Helpless, like a small mouse before the wide, fanged jaws of that venomous cobra, Kuroko can only obey. Just like he, just like _all_ of them, always have.

***

The first practice is brutal. It's _pounding_ , _pounding_ , _pounding_ , so much pounding Kuroko's head throbs with it. Feet pounding on the outdoor track they are forced to run on for what seems like eternity. Balls pounding on the glossy, parquet floor as they practice drill after drill after drill. His heart pounding hard and fierce in his chest as he struggles to run, to catch up, to just _breathe_. He goes to the bench, sits down, and desperately draws sweet, cool air back into his starving lungs. He hears the sniggering of a few of the other members, the insults, but he tunes them out. It's nothing he has not heard before.

A towel drops on his head, and he looks up from under the white terrycloth to see Akashi's slim, retreating back. It's not the first time Akashi has brought him a towel, or a bottle of water, or a bandage, or some sort of other aid or succor. Despite his arrogance and "might is right" manner of looking at things, he often treated all of the other Generation of Miracles in such a way back at Teikō . Kuroko isn't sure if it is because he saw them as equals and truly cared for them, or if it is simply because they were his tools for victory that needed to be maintained for optimum performance.

Now, Kuroko observes as Akashi steps out on the court and takes the ball. There is not a single player that can compete with him. Despite his diminutive stature, he runs rings around all of them. It is beautiful and glorious, and Kuroko both enjoys watching the sight and is envious at the same time that it isn't him, can never be him.

When enough time passes and his stamina returns, he carefully folds the towel, setting it aside as he starts to push up from the bench. Suddenly, Akashi is there, dimpled, orange ball under one arm, other extended palm up toward Kuroko. His mismatched, slightly crazed, _beautiful_ eyes are shining fiercely, as fierce as the grin he's wearing on his damp, flushed face.

"Come, Tetsuya. This team is no good. We need to rebuild it. Starting now. _I_ will be your light, and we will show them. Show them your true worth, show them that amazing gift that you alone possess."

Just like before, the room, the world, the universe, it all melts away. All he can see, all he can hear, all he can feel is Akashi. He takes that outstretched hand, a hand that is still icy despite its exertions, and curls his fingers around it. It may be his imagination, but it seems Akashi squeezes his fingers, and then he's up, off the bench, and he's on the court, and they are steamrolling everyone. His passes are immaculate, unerringly hitting Akashi's waiting hands no matter where either one of them are. They are in sync, a perfect pair, and no one can stop them. What is _not_ Kuroko's imagination is the fact that Akashi seems to take great delight in humiliating the three seniors who had been ridiculing him earlier. Yes, Akashi's eyes do indeed see everything.

Later, much later, he's walking back toward the dorms. He's exhausted, sore, and happy, so happy he almost feels drunk with the feeling. Something Kuroko's not used to at all, always preferring to remain a sedate, quiet kind of person who keeps his nose buried in a book rather than shouting and wearing his emotions on his sleeve for all the world to see like his old teammate at Seirin, Kagami. It's all because of Akashi. Akashi, who Kuroko had managed to escape from once before, when the Generation of Miracles briefly broke him with their hard, self-centered actions, and maybe in addition to the pain and need to show them how wrong they were, he had felt relief as well. Relief that he wouldn’t have to be tormented by things he shouldn’t want, did not get, and could never have.

"Tetsuya."  

He pivots as the person he most wants to see, and never wants to see again, calls out to him. It is closing in on dusk, and the sky is that weird mix of caramel and crimson and cobalt. The sun is a glowing, sinking ball and it forms a bright, fiery halo behind Akashi’s head. With the sun in that position, it throws his face into deep shadow, but Kuroko can still see his eyes. They scorch him, burn him, and sear him to the bone.

“A-Akashi-kun,” he forces his face into its standard, imperturbable lines and wills his voice not to shake, “do you stay in the dorms, too?”

“No, I have my own apartment.” He makes it sound like it’s a matter of course that he would have his own place and not stay in the dorms with the lowly commoners.

Kuroko’s eyebrows draw together in confusion. “Then what are you doing here?”

“I came for you.” He lets that loaded statement hang between them for a moment, and Kuroko’s breath stops, his heart stops, the whole world … just … stops, and then Akashi smiles faintly. “Or, rather what I meant to say is, I wanted to know if you would like to come for dinner at my apartment.”

He can breathe again, which he does, in a big, giant whoosh of air. Akashi’s smile deepens, and the expression borders on satisfaction. The look cements to him that Akashi _does_ know exactly what every word, every glance, every touch of his is doing, has always done, to Kuroko. He knows, accepts, and even seems to relish it.

Not trusting his voice, Kuroko can only close his eyes and nod, knowing what he’s always feared, what he’s always wanted, might be coming true this very night.

And it does. Apparently when Akashi asks him over for dinner, what he really means is that he wants _Kuroko_ for dinner.

They barely cross the threshold of his apartment when Akashi is flattening him against the door, crushing their lips together, rubbing his tongue over Kuroko’s. The kiss goes on and on and on, until he’s dizzy from pleasure, dizzy from the lack of air, and suddenly he’s being whisked down the hall, so fast he doesn’t even have time to take note of his surroundings, and then he’s being stripped, pushed down onto a bed with soft, expensive sheets that smell like Akashi.

While his mind is trying to play catch up, an equally nude body covers his, pressing his slightly smaller figure into the mattress, and he hisses at the first, cool touch.

“What’s wrong, Tetsuya?” the question is a husky, amused whisper as Akashi brushes pale, blue bangs out of his eyes.

“Akashi-kun is cold,” it’s all his befuddled brain can think to say.

“And you are so warm,” Akashi  murmurs against his throat and then bites down hard, so hard Kuroko gasps, so hard it’s a wonder he doesn’t draw blood. He bites and sucks and licks until Kuroko isn’t sure if it is pain or pleasure he is feeling. He fists his hands in the sheets, arches his back, cries out, and doesn’t even recognize his own voice.

As if that cry is some kind of signal, Akashi’s hands are everywhere, running down his arms, stroking over his chest, kneading his hips and thighs. Whether it is because of his eyes or because he is experienced, he knows just the right places to touch and caress and probe. Kuroko is aroused, achingly so, his erection a heavy, throbbing weight between his legs.

Akashi is not immune, either. He can feel his former captain’s arousal digging into to his thigh, burning like a stiff, blazing brand against his skin. It is an alien sensation, and yet somehow it feels amazingly wonderful, that hot, velvety mass pressing insistently against him. He undulates, rubbing his thigh along the silken heat of Akashi’s erection, and now it’s the other man’s turn to hiss.

Things get a little hazy after that. Akashi is kissing him again, biting his lower lip, sucking it deep into a hot, wet mouth.  Fingers are rasping over his chest, tugging on his nipples, pinching until the small points are red and swollen.  There are rustling noises, popping noises, crinkling noises, and a hand that is now somehow slick and wet is sliding between his legs, touching him, stroking him until his head is thrashing violently back and forth. The hand moves lower, the fingers massaging and touching a place that has him instinctively protesting.

“Ngh, Akashi-kun, that’s—.”

Akashi cuts him off by pushing one finger inside. “Shh. It will all be okay in a minute. I’m always right, aren’t I?”

Kuroko can’t argue because all the air leaves his lungs as that finger withdraws and surges back inside. And at some point there are two fingers, and then there are three, and Kuroko stops counting and just starts feeling, because the pinching pain slowly gives way to a dark pleasure that has him shaking and moaning and clutching Akashi’s back for support as the world falls out from beneath him.

The fingers disappear and something else replaces it, and Kuroko isn’t stupid, he knows what it is, yet still he gasps.

“Look at me, Tetsuya!” Akashi commands, and with silent tears leaking from his blue, blue eyes, he obeys.

He stares into Akashi’s mismatched gaze as the other man plunges into him, and he chokes on a scream, but Akashi grabs his hands, twines their fingers, and kisses the sound away.

It’s tight and hot, so hot, and he feels impaled and uncomfortable, but when Akashi begins to move, something strange happens. He keeps hitting a spot that sends sparks of vicious delight straight from Kuroko’s ass to his groin. It still hurts, but it’s now a wonderful kind of pain. It triggers some instinct he doesn’t know he has, and he’s rocking up into those thrusts, wrapping his legs around the hips rolling into his, raking his nails down the back flexing and bending over him.

Akashi, too, loses the superior composure he always possesses and his movements become urgent.  Writhing, rocking, surging, thrusting, their bodies meld and dance and almost fight for their pleasure. Akashi’s mouth, his teeth, his fingers are not gentle. They mark, and bruise, and even _bleed_ Kuroko, but he doesn’t mind, can’t mind, not when he’s lost in wicked bliss. He simply moans and pants, enjoying the feeling of being stretched, ridden, _dominated_.

The orgasm takes him by surprise. One second he is eagerly sucking on the tongue dipping into his mouth, and the next he is tearing his lips away, throwing his head back, and sobbing harshly as the burning, pulsing, exploding release sweeps over him, through him, and out of him in a hot, sticky, mess.  

Akashi follows soon after, stiffening in his arms and throbbing deep within in him. As he comes, he buries his face in Kuroko’s neck, his breath misting over the damp skin beneath him, and he groans out one word in a husky, panting whisper. “ _Tetsuya_.” Kuroko trembles again at the sound.

When their ardor is dampened, and they are laying side by side, fingers still intertwined, and he can think and rationalize again, Kuroko turns his head to look at Akashi. His new lover is already staring intently back at him.

“Why?” he asks simply, and he doesn’t need to clarify, Akashi knows, just like he always knows, has always known.

“Because you are necessary to my happiness, and you know I do not let anything stand in my way when I want something. Not even gender or hypocritical societal mores or even schools with second rate basketball teams.”

Kuroko’s heart thunders and he hopes that, if this is a dream, it is one he never wakes from, because even if it is tinged with darkness, there is enough light shining in Akashi’s beautiful face to make that darkness acceptable, even welcome. _Here_ is the true light to his shadow, the others were just temporary place holders.

Swallowing past the lump in his throat, he can’t help but ask one more question. “What if you hadn’t found me again?”

Eyes flaring, Akashi rolls over, pins him to the bed again, and makes a place for himself between Kuroko’s legs.

“That would never happen. I would always, _will_ always, find you. Don't you know, you’ve belonged to me from the beginning.”

With awe and wonder, and yes, _love_ , he realizes it is true, he has been Akashi’s right from the start, and he knows he will continue to be, for as long as he has breath in his body. He's been consumed, swallowed whole, already lying in the belly of the snake, and there's no place on earth he would rather be.

_Fin_.


End file.
